


nobody said it was easy

by gotatheory



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:45:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3319583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotatheory/pseuds/gotatheory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Happy endings are never quite what you expect them to be. Marian, during 4x11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nobody said it was easy

**Author's Note:**

> Being an enormous Outlaw Queen shipper, I… naturally wrote a ridiculously long fanfic in Marian’s POV that takes place during and after the midseason finale. Also this is unbetaed, so forgive any mistakes.

**nobody said it was easy**

When she opens her eyes, she has a moment of confusion—she was just at that strange council meeting of Snow White’s, but now she’s somewhere else—and she sees the Evil Queen standing over her. She’s certain the fear shows on her face even though she tries to suppress it, but then the Queen steps back and Robin takes her place. Seeing her husband has her up and moving, and her head feels as if she’s been in a very deep sleep as the world lurches into a spin, but she’s got her arms around Robin again and he’s got his around her.

She doesn’t know what happened, but she feels like she’s missing something, like time has passed her by. It’s strange, has her feeling off-kilter, when before she felt like nothing at all had changed. Even though she had been pulled through time by Emma, plucked from the Enchanted Forest and brought to this strange realm, nothing had changed for her except scenery and the way Robin looked at her, like she was an apparition come to haunt him.

Now everything feels different. Something has changed, but she can’t figure out just what.

When Robin pulls away from her, he turns to the Evil Queen—no, Regina, she’s not a queen here, has even saved her life once—and thanks her, then excuses them from her presence. Marian watches her husband carefully, still confused about what happened and why she feels so strange. He’s tense, has put space between them, almost an arm’s length away even as he keeps a hand a hand on her elbow, and she notices the way he looks at _Regina_ with pained eyes.

She knows Robin well, better than she knows herself, or she did once upon a time. That’s not just pain in his eyes; there’s guilt, there’s something she doesn’t want to put a name to.

Her heart sinks.

* * *

  
Robin leads her out of the—she doesn’t know what to call it, until she gets out of it and recognizes it as a crypt, which answers that question but none of the ones that are truly bothering her. Robin must see her confusion, because he asks what the last thing she remembers is, and he nods when she tells him.

“You passed out,” he supplies, and then as they walk further and further into the forest, he launches into an explanation about ice curses and Snow Queens. “If the ice had gotten to your heart, you would have died… So Regina pulled out your heart.”

It makes her gasp, brings a hand to her heart, and suddenly the lingering pain there makes sense.

“It was the only way to keep you alive until we could figure out how to break the curse,” he says quickly, and she trusts him, and obviously it worked, but it sounds terrifying. The Evil Queen— _Regina_ —held her heart in her hand, could have crushed it easily.

Marian remembers the stories back in the Enchanted Forest about all the hearts the Queen had taken. But here she is. She’s alive, and Regina was standing over her, must have returned her heart the same way she took it.

The woman who would have been her executioner (or at least would have ordered her execution) has now saved her twice.

And Marian knows, it’s bigger than that, that not only had she saved her _twice_ , she saved her despite it not being in her best interest. Marian doesn’t know what the extent of Robin’s relationship with Regina was—will not admit what she is now beginning to suspect—but they had something, Robin wouldn’t let just anyone around Roland, and she is standing in their way. At least, that is how the Evil Queen would have saw it, Marian is certain.

Robin has finished explaining how the curse on her was broken when Emma and someone named Elsa defeated the Snow Queen, and Marian realizes they are almost back at the camp with the rest of the Merry Men. She is eager to return, eager to see her son, though he’s grown so much while she’s been gone that it twists her stomach with guilt. All the things she’s missed, all the milestones she wasn’t there for, and now he barely remembers her. Instead of continuing forward to the camp, Robin grasps her arm gently, leads her away.

“There’s something else, Marian,” he says in such a grave manner, she worries now what could possibly be worse than her near death experience.

“Roland?” she says, assuming that something must have befallen their son. Had he too been touched by the curse? Had it spread more quickly through him, could he not be saved—

“No, no, he’s fine,” Robin is quick to reassure her, guiding her to a fallen log to sit on. He takes her hand in his, squeezes, but she thinks this is not meant to soothe her fears over Roland. He opens his mouth to speak, but his face twists, absolutely wrenches with guilt, and all that comes out is, “I don’t quite know how to tell you this…”

Marian frowns, because her Robin is not one to beat around and avoid speaking hard truths when necessary. “Whatever it is, simply tell me, Robin,” she says, pulling her hand from his to cup his cheek. He pulls slightly from her touch, and she thinks about what she is trying so hard to not think about.

She doesn’t say anything else, waits for him to speak, and finally he heaves a long sigh. “I love you, Marian,” he says, and perhaps that is the easy part, the part that lets him get started and then his voice will do the rest, because the words start flowing after that. “And a part of me always will, but you were dead, or I thought you were dead, and I spent all that time on my own, raising our son and I thought I would never be over you. I thought I could never, ever love anyone as much as I loved you. But grief can’t stay that sharp forever, I… I had to move on, eventually, so that I could be the best possible father for Roland. In letting go of that grief, however, I inadvertently and unconsciously opened myself to the possibility of finding love again. And then I met Regina.”

He smiles then, cannot even help but smile when he says her name, when he thinks of her, and it is gone in a flash, as if it was a reflex he couldn’t stop. Marian’s heart thuds in her chest, she can hear it in her ears, and she remembers the way Robin looked at Regina back in the mausoleum. She remembers when he looked at her that way. When he used to smile when he said her name.

He tells her that he has fallen in love with Regina, that he has even done the unthinkable and broken his vows of faithfulness to her while she lay frozen. He is apologetic, but she shakes her head even as tears well in her eyes.

“Robin, I was dead. You mourned me and moved on and then I came back, like nothing had changed,” she says, cutting off his sincerest apologies. “And then two days later, I was at death’s door again.” She doesn’t laugh, because it isn’t funny, it’s cruel. Was this to always be her fate? Constant near-death experiences? By surviving through her pregnancy, had they simply delayed her inevitable premature demise?

“That doesn’t matter, I had made promises to you, and I should have honored them.”

“I am _not_ an obligation,” she snaps, scowling at him. “If the only reason you are with me is because of the vows we made, let me remind you, those were until death do us part.”

His face twists again, because she was dead, but now she’s not, and she understands. It’s complicated. But she loves him, and wants to be loved by him, not pitied or picked because they were married. Neither of them could be happy like that, and she will not sully the memories of their happiness back in the Enchanted Forest with a sham marriage, chosen because she is the choice he is held to by his honor.

She softens as she asks, “You said you’re in love with her?”

“Yes.” His voice is soft, breaking with the truth of it, eyes shining with tears because everything is so frustratingly difficult now.

She can’t bear to look at him, bites her tongue to hold back her own tears. “Then I think you’ve made your choice, Robin.”

* * *

  
She leaves him shortly after that, unable to see Roland now with this swirling over her head, because now she must speak to the Queen. Regina. The woman with whom her husband is in love. She had considered doing it at some point anyway, back when Robin had come to her and explained he had ended things with Regina, and thinking of that conversation hurts. She should have seen the signs then that this was never going to work. He had looked so pained, so heartbroken even as he said he loved her that day.

It turns her stomach, remembering it, and she wonders if it would not have saved them all a lot of trouble if he had simply been honest with her in the beginning. She can’t say she would have understood or been happy, but she cannot stand that he made his choice simply because of his code. That, too, brings tears to her eyes, bitter tears that he cares so little for her that he would subject her to being the other woman in her own marriage. She wonders how long he thought that would work, if he imagined she would never notice that his heart was no longer hers or if he thought eventually he could love her again.

She loves Robin, but right now, she thinks she might put an arrow in him if she saw him. So instead, she finds his new love at Granny’s, and Marian takes a second to look at her through the window.

The Queen is beautiful, had always been called the fairest in the land even when they spoke of her great evils, but Marian sees a different sort of beauty in her than the terrible, alluring regality she bore in the Enchanted Forest. Indeed, sitting on a stool at the bar, she simply looks like a woman, like the Regina everyone insists she is now. There’s something tragic about her, the slump of her shoulders, the way her eyes are downcast even from the angle from which Marian is observing her. Even in her sadness, she is stunning.

She walks in then, strides in swiftly, head held high as she approaches the stool just one away from her.

“I’d rather be alone right now,” Regina says without looking. Marian supposes it sounds biting, or is supposed to, but to her it lacks the real anger of the Evil Queen she remembers vividly. Instead, she sounds tired, like the effort to be terrifying is too much for her in her sadness.

“I apologize, Your Majesty,” Marian says, uncomfortable at the thought of addressing her by her given name, “But I wanted to thank you for saving my life. Twice.”

Regina looks up from her cup, eyes widening slightly when they meet Marian’s.

Marian watches her, manages a small, hopefully non-threatening, hopefully non-I-know-my-husband-is-in-love-with-you smile.

The Queen regains her composure, unsurprisingly, and replies, “Don’t worry about it. And I prefer Regina.”

She nods, but she came here for more than that. Regina has looked away, gone back to staring at her tea, but Marian sighs and regains her attention. “I’m afraid I do worry about it,” she says, but then corrects, “Well, that’s not the right word. _Think_ might be better. Because you saved my life, twice, even though you didn’t have to and had every reason not to.”

“I’m not that monster you remember anymore. I try to be better, to do better.”

Marian nods again. “Robin tells me you have a son, too,” she says slowly.

Regina looks confused, and Marian doesn’t blame her, she can’t know where this is going. But then she nods once, murmurs his name, “Henry,” and as she says it, her entire face changes for the briefest second. Her demeanor softens, lights up, and Marian recognizes the proud mother in her as surely as if she was looking at herself.

“Back when I first arrived here, after the confrontation outside, Robin told me how Henry has helped you change,” Marian tells her, and now Regina understands. “I didn’t really believe it at first, couldn’t imagine you raising a child, especially one that could be so good as to make you good. But you saved my life twice, when you could have let me die and no one could have blamed you, and then you could have had Robin all to yourself.”

Her brow furrows and her voice is sharper when she responds, “I _am not_ that person anymore. I would never do that, not to Robin.” She starts slightly, like she’s given too much away, but Marian already knows. She’d given everything away the moment she looked at Robin back in that mausoleum of hers.

“He’s in love with you,” she says, and maybe she shouldn’t, because if she doesn’t know, this is a hell of a way to find out. But from what Robin’s told her, she would be a fool to not know, and Regina hardly seems foolish.

She doesn’t deny it, simply scoffs. “It doesn’t matter. He made a vow to you, and he is an honorable man.” Her voice goes bitter, biting again, a little more of the Evil Queen showing through.

Marian’s not afraid, recognizes that Regina is more angry with herself than anyone else. She doubts that the proud queen would have ever wanted to be someone’s mistress, and Robin has accidentally turned her into that. “I am still in love with Robin,” she admits. “It’s been only days since I last saw him in the Enchanted Forest, but I know it’s been years for him. I don’t begrudge him moving on after he’s mourned me. And I am not so desperate to have him that I’ll hold him to vows his heart no longer feels true to.”

Regina is staring at her now, mouth slightly parted but no words come, so Marian continues, “He’s in love with you, and I think you’re in love with him. If by some miracle he comes back to me, I won’t turn him away. But I think we both know that his heart will lead him to you.” She says it rather matter-of-factly, all of it, and with absolutely no rancor. She’s proud of that, proud that she can in fact be this person who accepts that her husband is in love with another woman, and that it’s the woman who tried to have her killed.

It hurts, worse than the pain she felt when her heart was shoved back into her chest. She’s angry at Robin, at the entire mess of it, at Emma Swan for bringing her to a world she doesn’t belong, but she knows she’ll let go of that in time. She loves Robin, wants what is best for him, truly, and selfishly she wants her own happiness as well. She could be angrier, and fight for Robin, but that wouldn’t get her his love, and she wouldn’t be the person she has tried to be since that moment a thief stole her horse and helped show her there was more to life than an arranged marriage, duty-bound to it by her father and his ambitions.

No, she did not walk away from the Sheriff of Nottingham and into Sherwood Forest all those years ago to be locked into a union of obligation. She loves Robin, but she will love again, as he has done. She’s certain of it.

* * *

  
She returns to the camp and reunites with her son who is less impressed about her second (third? fourth? she has lost track) escape from death. She doesn’t blame him, she’s grown rather weary of it as well, and she supposes since she’s been gone longer than she’s been around, he had hardly gotten used to seeing her. But he does make her smile, says he’s glad she’s feeling better now, and invites her to play a game. Robin watches the entire time, a soft smile on his face, and it grows wider when she happens to glance up at him.

She returns it easily, still so thrilled to interact with her son even if he’s larger than she remembers. She still catches the difference in Robin’s smile, though, the love that is all proud father and not adoring husband, but she finds it hurts a little less to acknowledge that as Roland explains how to play Ogres and Archers with all the babbling excitement a five-year-old can muster.

Marian talks to Robin at the midday meal, when she can pull him away from the Merry Men and their raucous toasting to her own return to health. In a quiet voice, she tells him of her talk with Regina, and when he opens his mouth to protest—she’s not entirely certain what he thinks he’s going to protest—she talks right over him. “Roland was telling me about a lake nearby, where he likes to feed the ducks,” she says, shifting subjects, and he blinks confusedly at her.

“Yes.” He nods. “Would you like to take him there?”

“Yes, I would.” She pauses, and then adds calmly, “I think you should use the time to talk to Regina, too. It’s not fair to keep her waiting like this.”

He stares at her as if she’s grown a second head, and stranger things have happened at this point so she wouldn’t be surprised, while stuttering that he doesn’t think that’s appropriate and it isn’t the time. “You’ve only just woken up, Marian—what are we going to tell Roland?—I think we should make sure he’s okay after your freezing—”

Marian frowns, feels her annoyance building, because her husband—former husband, she supposes—has already made things difficult enough by treating her like some sort of fragile object. If he had just been honest with her to begin with—she shakes her head, cutting off that line of thought, as true as it might have been. “If you really don’t want to talk to her, that’s fine, but I thought you made your feelings quite clear to me, and I think you should make them clear to her. I’m not the only one you’ve hurt by doing all this,” she points out, because she is perfectly willing to stand aside, but she’s not quite so noble to act as if she is not angry at him, at the situation he’s created.

He has the decency to look ashamed, ducking his head under her glare, and softly saying, “You’re right, of course you’re right. I just… This whole thing’s a mess, and it’s my fault, and—”

She takes his hand gently, squeezes it. “And you want to run away from it instead of making the hard choices,” she finishes for him. “I know you do, Robin, but you’ve already made your choice. Now you just have to tell her.”

Marian graces him with a reassuring smile, releases his hand, and then goes to scoop up her son. She peppers his face with kisses as she tells him that he needs to finish his lunch so they can go feed the ducks. He squeals with excitement, and when he asks if Regina is coming too, her smile stays locked in place and she says _we’ll see_.

* * *

  
The park is nothing special, though Marian doesn’t have a wide range of comparison. She can find her way around any forest if she’s there long enough to study, but trees and pathways all look the same to her until she’s accustomed. The lake is clear, glinting in the sun, and the ducks come close to the bank the moment they arrive, ready to be fed. Roland keeps her attention as they toss bits of bread to them, coming up with all sorts of names and wild stories about them, in the way that only a child’s wild imagination can.

Even so, she manages the occasional glance back at Robin, where he is on a bench. With Regina. Marian doesn’t smile at them, though she thinks she is some sort of happy that her husband did the right thing and asked her to meet them there.

It’s strange, difficult, to watch them together, and her gut twists with something that is not jealousy at the way he looks at Regina. It’s something sharper, something more like loss and grief, because he will never look at her that way ever again. Her anger is burning out, giving to the bitter relief of acceptance. She loves him, probably always will, and though she imagines he still loves her, it’s not in the same way.

Her stomach twists again, and she looks away from them, from the smile that she can see crossing Regina’s face, even at this distance. It’s practically radiant, and Marian has to shut her eyes against it, because she’s a good person but she’s not that good, not good enough that she can watch her husband tell another woman that he is in love with her.

When her eyes open again, it’s to Robin and Regina crouched over her, and it hasn’t even been a day since the last time, and Marian hopes to never see this sight ever again.

She hurts all over, worse than when she woke up after her heart was returned, and she’s shivering, why is she shivering, she’s wearing her cloak which was perfectly adequate for the day’s weather. She tries to sit up and everything spins. Robin has to hold her up, even as he’s telling her to stay still.

Regina is speaking in even tones, explaining what happened, and it’s another blur of words about curses and residual magic lingering. She understands just enough to get the gist that it bodes ill for her. Her hand reflexively tightens around Robin’s.

“Am I going to die?” she says, and she wants to be brave with Regina there, but she can’t hide the tremble in her voice. It is not death that she fears, but losing her son, losing the chance she had to raise her son despite the years taken from her.

“You will if you stay in Storybrooke,” Robin murmurs to her. “But the land outside is without magic, so you should be all right across the town line.”

Marian blinks at that, getting the tears that were building out of her eyes, and a relieved smile crosses her face. “Then let’s get me to the town line!” she says, but Robin’s face knots, his mouth tipping further down, and Regina won’t look at her at all. “What’s wrong?”

“The Snow Queen left one last gift, it seems. Once the town line is crossed, you can never return to Storybrooke.”

The tears come back with a vengeance, though she has no attachment to the town. Her family is here. Roland, especially, but Robin and the Merry Men as well. What good is living if she is forever forbidden from being with those she loves? She thinks she’d rather die and enjoy her last moments holding her son.

“I don’t know that I can cross.” She’s shaking, shaking her head for _no_ , but trembling, from the pain, from the chill she can feel creeping along her back, digging into her skin with icy fingers. “Where’s Roland? I… Whatever I decide, I want to be able to say goodbye to him.” If she dies, she wants to at least have the chance to say goodbye, to tell him how much she loves him, and she wants to tell Regina to take care of her son with that same love Marian could see in the former Queen when she spoke of Henry, and she has so many things to say to Robin still.

“He’s right here, Marian,” Robin says, pulling away and waving their son over.

Roland’s little face is twisted in concern, lower lip jutting out and dark eyes filmy with tears, and all Marian wants to do is kiss away all of his fears. Instead, she reaches for him, holds him close to her and says into his hair, “It’s okay, sweetheart, Mama’s right here.” A sharp pain lances through her too quickly for her to mask it.

“She’s getting worse, Robin.” Regina’s eyes flit over to her and then look off into the distance, then to someplace else, over and over again. Her hands twist together and then she holds them so tightly Marian can see her knuckles turning white. “We need to get you to the town line.”

“No, no,” Marian says, shaking her head, even with her face pressed into Roland’s hair. “I don’t want to go. I’d rather—I’d rather stay here and just say goodbye.”

“Say goodbye?” Robin repeats, his brow furrowing. “What are you talking about?”

“We don’t have time for this,” Regina interrupts, and this time she is the one shaking her head. “We need to move quickly. Robin, I can transport you back to the camp. But I’ll need to go my—to Mary-Margaret’s office to get a couple of things for your journey. Go ahead to the town line, but try not to step over until I get there so I can give you the map and the money and…”

Regina is listing things, rambling almost. Marian would find it surprising for a woman who has seemed composed in the majority of their interactions, except she can’t quite focus clearly from the chills running over her skin. But it’s when Robin stops her and says, “I know you’ll make sure we’re well taken care of,” that she thinks there is something happening that she hasn’t figured out yet. He continues, “Send us back to the camp so we can say goodbye to the Merry Men,” and this time when she gasps, it’s not just from the pain.

“Wait.” Her body seizes suddenly, pain gripping her hard enough to make her breath catch and force a cough, but then it passes as quickly as it came, and everything feels numb instead. Regina makes a sound that is probably impatience, but Marian ignores it. “You said _we_.” She can just make out Robin’s confused expression from behind the haze covering her vision. “We’re saying goodbye to the Merry Men?”

“Well, yes.” His brow furrows and then understanding dawns. “Marian. I’m not sending you out into a world you know nothing about all by yourself. And we have Roland. If you went by yourself, you’d never see him again.”

Marian looks from Robin to Regina, who has stopped looking at them at all, suddenly very interested in the grass beneath her feet. When Marian’s gaze shifts back to him, she can see the furrow in his brow, but it’s not from confusion this time. It’s from pain.

Her shivering again breaks the silence, and Regina quickly sends them to the camp in a puff of smoke. Robin gathers what little stuff they can carry and the men come with them to the town line for goodbyes. Marian says little, partly because her mind stays fuzzy with frost, but also because she can’t stop thinking about Regina.

Once again, the Queen has saved her. She wonders what deity she has upset so, that they would damn her to this life of constant almost-deaths and being saved by a woman who probably wished she could let her die.

Before she leaves Storybrooke forever, she looks at Regina and tries to convey the weight of the world in her gaze. _Thank you_.

* * *

  
The outside world is even stranger than Storybrooke. Regina has given them numerous papers: official documents, money, a map with instructions to a place in New York, and the quickest rundown of the modernity that awaited them. Marian still finds the place absolutely baffling, with strange clothes and customs and carriages. She hates it, misses the simplicity of the forest, the world from which she came.

Robin fares little better with it, especially once they reach New York and the amount of flora recedes considerably. But Marian thinks it’s not just the forest he’s missing, thinks he could live just fine in this city if only there was someone else with him instead of her. It’s uncharitable to think, and she hates herself a little for it, and keeps it buried deep in her mind.

They are nothing if not adaptable, however, used to changing places when they were under pursuit by Prince John’s guard or the Evil Queen’s Black Knights.

The apartment in New York is large and comes furnished with lush leather couches and lovely wood tables, and the second bedroom is decorated just right for a young boy, curiously enough (Robin stays in there went Roland and lets Marian take the bigger room). They can’t stay there long, per Regina’s instructions that it would be dreadfully expensive, and she couldn’t give them enough money to stay there forever.

Life goes on. They both find jobs and follow Regina’s instructions to get Roland enrolled in a school so he’ll be taken care of during the day. It’s almost enough for Marian to start enjoying this land without magic. She can almost forget Storybrooke, and curses, and Evil Queens.

Except Robin’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes these days, even when he looks at their son playing with the new toy Marian got him with her paycheck (they try not to spoil Roland, but she figures it has been a while since she last gave him a toy, and he too has been slightly off since they left Storybrooke). Marian knows why, can imagine who Robin is constantly thinking of even when he’s playing with Roland or having a conversation with her, and she tries really hard not to resent it.

But she wonders if Robin resents _her_ , because if she hadn’t gotten frozen in the first place (though that was hardly her fault, she couldn’t have known, no one could), then they wouldn’t be here. He’d be with Regina. If she hadn’t come back at all (though again, that wasn’t her fault, Emma had knocked her out and dragged her through time), then none of this ever would have happened. He never would have been separated from Regina for—Marian actually doesn’t know how long they were separated. But it is her that has kept them apart, and she doesn’t feel bad about that, because it’s Robin’s fault for making her an obligation, but she does feel bad about their current separation.

It hurts to see the man she still loves hurting, and there is nothing she can do about it. Maybe, maybe if she had been as selfless as Regina, she would have told Robin to stay in Storybrooke. She likes to think that she would have, if it hadn’t been for Roland. But Marian could never be so selfless as to give up her son, not after she nearly got herself executed and missed years of his life.

One night she goes to his room, because the walls are thin, thin enough that she can hear him tossing and turning. Roland is asleep on the sofa tonight, curled around his monkey, and Marian passes by him with a loving glance before slipping into Robin’s room.

“Robin,” she says softly, her eyes not quite adjusted to the pitch blackness of the room.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, because he knows. This isn’t even the first time in the six weeks they’ve lived here. “I shouldn’t keep you up, you have to work… I’ll go take a walk.”

“You should sleep, too,” Marian replies, making her way slowly to the bed. She sits upon it, feels blindly for his hand. “Talk to me. You never talk to me anymore.”

“I talk to you all the time,” he says, confused, and she shakes her head.

“You don’t truly talk to me. We talk about Roland and parenting and about our days, but you don’t share anything with me. Robin, you’re my best friend. And now, you’re all I have, besides our son.” She tries to keep her voice level, but honestly, she’s hurting too. He’s not the only one who has lost his True Love, and unlike her, he doesn’t have to see his every day, knowing that things will never be the same. “You’re hurting, and I want to help.”

Robin sighs heavily, sitting up and placing his head in his hands. “You can’t, Marian. Nothing can help this. I feel like… I feel like a part of my soul is missing.” She can just barely make out the motion of his hands running over his hair. “But that’s not all. Regina was so convinced that she couldn’t be happy. That there was some author making sure she stayed written as a villain, so she doesn’t get a happy ending. Ever since she told me that, all I wanted was her happiness, whatever it may have been, and now I wonder. How is she? Did she take this as another sign that she’s forever damned by her past? Does she know that she can be happy eventually? Though it hurts me to think she’ll find another love, I don’t want her to stay miserable over me. I don’t want her to think I’m her only chance for happiness.”

He is almost in tears, she can hear them in his voice, and her heart aches for him. He exhales harshly, rubbing his face. “I’m sorry. I know this is difficult for you, too.” He reaches for her hand and squeezes it. “You shouldn’t have to listen to me worry about these things.”

Marian bites her lip, squeezes her eyes shut before returning his tightened grasp around her fingers. “It’s okay, Robin. I want you to talk to me. I want to help,” she assures. “It’s not easy to hear, but I have no illusions about our relationship now. And I would rather try to help you find your way back to her so you could be happy than delude myself into thinking you can love me like that again.”

“I’m so sorry, Marian,” he says, her words apparently making his pain worse. “I never meant to hurt you like this. I hate myself for it.”

“Don’t. I’m fine, Robin, and though I will always love you, I want my own happy ending,” she replies, and manages to keep her own tears out of her voice. “I want someone to love me like you used to, like you love her now. And I truly, truly hope you find your way back to her.”

Robin smiles at her, so brightly that she can see it even in the dark. “You are an amazing woman, Marian, and some man is going to be very fortunate that you love him,” he says, and presses a gentle, familial kiss to her cheek. “I only hope he takes better care of you than I did.”

She lifts her hand to his cheek, returning his smile. “You were wonderful while we were together, Robin. We were so happy.”

Robin nods. “We were.”

“And we’ll find it again,” she says with great conviction. “You will make it back to Regina and I will find someone.”

Sitting there in the darkness with him, she can almost convince herself that it’s true. That one day, her life will be more than near deaths and curses, and they will all get their happy endings.

* * *

  
Weeks later, Marian sits around a campfire with Roland perched on her lap as Little John regales them with stories of the Merry Men’s time while the family was away. Roland excitedly listens to him as he talks of the vicious Queens of Darkness and the way the men helped the Savior and the Queen vanquish them and rescue Roland’s papa. Robin has slinked away, having whispered to where he was going for the night before he left (as if she couldn’t guess where he was going, was surprised he stayed at the camp as long as he did). Marian is enjoying being back home, because home is really these people, these wonderful men who are by turn her unruly brothers or her unruly children.

Roland decides he has tired of sitting, insists on dragging Little John with him, and Marian is left alone by the fire. She watches the flames dance, looks up when she hears someone else sit down in John’s vacated spot. It’s a young woman, and Marian remembers meeting her briefly before the Snow Queen’s curse.

“I thought you might like a drink, milady,” Mulan says, handing her a plain metal cup. “And maybe some company quieter than John.”

Marian laughs as she accepts the drink, sipping from it. It’s the sharp red wine that Friar Tuck has taken a liking to, preferring it to the soft drinks and beer the rest of the Merry Men try to always drink, and Marian appreciates it because it reminds her of the Enchanted Forest.

“It’s so good to be back,” Marian murmurs, just barely loud enough to be heard over the fire crackling.

“Even without your husband?” Mulan frowns, follows it with an apology that Marian waves away.

“No, it’s fine. Robin hasn’t been my husband since we left here. Once I was unfrozen, he told me everything about Regina and his feelings for her. Even out in New York, we didn’t live together as husband and wife. I’m happy he’s gotten back to her,” she says honestly, smiling. “I know it’s strange, but I get the feeling Storybrooke thrives on strangeness.”

Mulan still frowns, staring into the fire as if deep in contemplation. “Won’t it be hard for you to see them together?”

“Maybe, at first.” Marian shrugs. “But I’d rather he be happy with her than stay with me and make all three of us miserable. Living as friends for six weeks in New York has certainly helped come around to the idea.” She regards the other woman curiously. “I don’t mean to pry, but is there something you’d like to talk about?”

Mulan straightens her shoulders, keeps her gaze ahead of her instead of looking at Marian. She shakes her head, nurses her own drink in silence for a long while, and Marian waits.

“There was someone that I… I had feelings for. It was quite complicated, really. At first I had feelings for him, or I thought I did, but I think it was more that I thought he should be the sort of person that I should like. And then through him, I met someone else, and I knew then that the feelings I had for her were real.” Mulan chews her lip, her jaw working as she struggles through her story. “But she was in love with him, too, and they were always meant to be together, I knew it was true love from the moment I saw them. But it doesn’t make it any easier when I see them. They have a child now.”

Marian has no idea who Mulan might be referring to, but she sees the similarities in Mulan’s story and her own, enough to get why Mulan wanted to talk to her. She makes a sympathetic noise and reaches for the other woman’s hand. “I won’t say you should forget about them,” she says. “But moving on is not the same as forgetting. You deserve your own happy ending. It might not be the ending you thought you were going to get, but you’ll get one, and it’ll be even better than what you wanted in the first place.”

Mulan doesn’t look convinced, but she softens, relaxes, squeezing Marian’s hand. “Thank you. That helps, oddly enough.”

Marian smiles widely at her, and Mulan returns it, transforms her entire face in such a way that she glows brighter than the fire next to them. And Marian thinks that just maybe, her words are true. 


End file.
